


Bits of soul

by MarieLamb_B



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bendy's a real demon, Brief description of violence, Chapter 5 Not considered/not canon, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mentions of Blood, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pocket-size!Bendy AU, Tag Warnings!, Tags Contain Spoilers, Work In Progress, You already saw this doesn't start too well..., at least that's what I pretend..., multi-chapter, therefore Not time-loops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieLamb_B/pseuds/MarieLamb_B
Summary: When the sole energy source of a real demon has stopped producing, then what does await for him in the future? Sure, he could go back to what he used to do originally, but that would mean to break the promisse he made himself in memory of the one who taught him the meaning of a painless life, whole and human.





	1. Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> So, let get this started! My first official AU, absolutely and entirely personal!!!
> 
> Quite probably's gonna launch slowly. No more schedules ~~(I can't keep them as I should)~~
> 
> But anyways... I hope you enjoy it!!

After about 9 years since Henry Stein got into the studio, he finally deceased. And after all the things he did to keep Bendy safe and happy, even when it was inside that hideous studio, he couldn’t let the ink just claim him. It wasn’t like he could, anyways; there was no soul remaining in that cold body, therefore would not be new addition to that insufferable pit of lost voices. No, he needed to carry him somewhere where at least his body could get the rest he deserved, even when there was no soul to ascend to any kind of afterlife.

Bendy waited for the night to veil the surrounds, and with a little of tug, he carried the body of the only man that willed to give his own life to grant the toon a happy, on-model existence. Bendy took him to his car’s back seat, secured him, and with a tear blurring his sight, he rubbed his peacefully wrinkled face one last time. Wiping his eyes a little, he headed to the driver’s seat.

Along the years, Henry successfully got to teach the little toon how to drive, but since his legs were too short, it was difficult for him to reach the pedals; so, with some pieces of wood that lied around the studio’s many debris, Henry made some kind of stilts so he could drive properly. Actually, those stilts were right next to him in the passenger seat. He put on them and started his way; maybe he was a little shorter to keep track of the road, after all he only drove on the studio’s parking lot, but where he wanted to go was no clear road, so there was no need to worry about any other vehicle coming across the way.

Once there, a neat clear place next to a moon shinned lake, he headed to a big old oak that shaded most of the moon light. Times like this made him wish to still be in his gigantic, monstrous form; at least caving a tomb would be easy in that way. But Henry sacrificed all so he would not ever be like that again, and a thought like that would be simply ungrateful due the circumstances. So, he walked to the back of the car, and from its trunk, he took a shovel and started to dig.

Maybe took him about an hour to get a hole big and deep enough to fit his friend’s body, but finally he could take him from the car and let him rest in the handcrafted tomb. This place used to be one of Henry’s favorites; he even called it his secret spot. At least once per month, he used to take him there, telling him how he found this place one night that he almost crashed his car, taking it out of the road to avoid another one in the opposite direction, and losing its control until he got to brake over a bunch of rocks that surrounded the lake. Lesson of that experience: never drive when you’re sleepy. He nearly died here that time, and Bendy couldn’t find it more curious that the only place he could think to bury him was precisely here.

But after a long time thoughtfully, watching the place where Henry used to lay a chair to read a book while watching the shimmering lake, he turned to the corpse of him, and remembered the last things he said to him.

“ _It’s not your fault, I’m old after all. Not even I thought I could make it this long. Yeah, you got most of what remained of my soul, but is my body the sick one. If I’m gonna die, I want you to take what last of my soul, please. Let me the last thing I get to see is you; the perfect you, Bendy... at least that way I’m always gonna be part of you..._ ”

“Yeah, always... At least ‘til I start to starve again, then what?” Bendy couldn’t help but recriminate himself: maybe he had the look of a toon, but still was a demon; he needed souls to keep himself together, and Henry offered his, bits by bits, lasting for almost 9 years before all of this. Would have he lasted longer if it weren’t because of him? But then he was a man nearly his seventies, who was cruelty beaten up the firsts days they met and never went to the hospital to attend his injuries; he just kept pressing himself over and over.

And now, 9 years after, he finally gave up, and Bendy couldn’t imagine a world without him. He wanted him to last forever, but he was just a human... would have been all better if he never had met him? At least he wouldn’t feel so wrecked by this moment, but also he would still be that suffering monster that Joey made of him.

Yeah, Joey sent Henry that letter, so that man would be safe from the demon that _he_ summoned. He sent letters to all the ex-employees of the studio, with the purpose of feed the demon as long as he didn’t take his soul. Why he summoned a demon to take the shape of a silly toon, anyway? To grant him some deals? Which ones, if he was too coward to even dare to cross his path? Was Bendy some kind of prisoner of him? Or was Joey the one that imprisoned himself with him lurking around?

But in any case, he brought the old employees, one by one, so Bendy could tear them apart and offer their souls to the ink, making his soul stock last a while in the shape of ink monsters: searchers, clones, lost ones, whatever they turned into, and every time he felt hungry, he just walked around and sucked the life essence out of them. But it wasn’t until Henry came upon that he realized how in pain and suffering he was lurking around.

That man, yeah, true, didn’t trust a bit on him, and how could he if he was going to do the same thing he already did with nearly every other human that came through. But in the end he did something that no one else managed to do: survive. The fall from the ground floor, the searchers, the lift fall, and those monsters that somehow got to gather plenty pieces of souls to form an own body and identity, like ‘The Prophet’, ‘Alice Angel’ or ‘The Projectionist’. Even the less hostile of all: ‘Boris’, which after some modifications from the one that used the name of the angel toon, became a hulking monster willing to crush the human. And so, he _survived_ all of that.

In a start, Bendy didn’t really care about how he was going to die, as long as the ink claimed him. But after the last proof of survival, he couldn’t do much but wonder... why a man of his age was so willing to live? Most of the humans didn’t make it after their encounter with the Projectionist.

And now he had this one, that even after being seriously beaten up by the hulking beast, the man just flopped on his knees and felt sorry? Why, if that thing wanted him dead? And then is when he saw it: slightly glowing, like snowflakes upward over him; those were bits of soul, but were way too different from the ones he used to feed himself. These ones felt warm, compassionate, tender... it made him feel different. Why it felt so good? What made it so different?

Then his rails of thoughts cut off when a screeching sound came from behind the man. That ‘Alice’ came running towards the man, clearly to kill him with her bare hands. If she did, then Bendy’d never know the reason. Why he was so curious in first place? He couldn’t answer himself, but that curiosity took the best of him, and made something he had never done to anyone: saved him.

While the human was preparing to find his fate in the hands of the warped angel, Bendy appeared from behind, holding that hideous imitation of an angel from her skull, and crushed it until she wasn’t more than ink spilled around; another soul to consume. But then again, it was different: it felt hot, filled with rage that suddenly turned into a cold feeling of fear and sorrow. Now that he tasted the bits of soul that he man– _alive_! –spread for him to taste, he didn’t like the bits the ink offered him from his victims.

The man was petrified in front of him. Way probably was that he was waiting for him to tear his limbs and neck apart to finally kill him; who could he blame. But Bendy just stood still, tilting his dripping face, wondering what made him different, what made his soul different. The flakes of soul were not floating over him anymore, and he couldn’t see them to find the way it worked. So with no more to see, Bendy just turned around, in his way to leave the man alone, and to see if he could survive a little longer.

“Wait!” That man just called him? Again his curiosity won over him, and turned his head to see the human trying to regain his stand. “...Why?” Bendy just tilted his head, expecting for him to keep going with that little of strength that allowed him to talk with a demon. “Why don’t you kill me? Wasn’t that what you’ve been trying all along?”

The demon turned completely to see the man. It was a funny scene: the human, standing straight, shoulders stiffed and a pity attempt of a tough face when he couldn’t control his own tears. What kind of emotion would be that one? Or maybe he was faking one to hide another? All the humans he had met only showed one kind of emotion, and with all were the same: fear. Even Joey showed him fear. But this man, maybe he was scared, but the fear he is used to know was a paralyzing, impotent one, where no one dared to do more than stand, waiting to seal their fate or begging to not do so. This one had dared to confront the demon for answers, and not even Bendy could believe what he was about to do.

“ **I did...** ” Wow, Bendy simply couldn’t believe the sound of his voice. The last time he used words to communicate– if he ever has communicated on some another way –was when Joey first summoned him. And being in the body of a then not-so-deformed toon had given him a squeaky pitch of voice. Now it sounded deeper, even monstrously. Did that make him feel bad? Why?

But the man, only slightly intimidated, was still there and wanting answers.

“Then?” Bendy stood still. What else could he tell him? “I mean, I’ve been trapped in here who knows how long! And every time I think I’m close to be free, ‘surprise! You won’t leave ‘cause I’ve prepared another trap to _nearly kill you_!’” Was the man still talking to him? Because that sounded like if he was referring to someone else... “...And now, you come here, after shooting me down by the lift, being awfully beaten by that madness of half man and three halves of carnival ride, being chased by a walking projector– and why did you rip his ‘head’ off when he could have ended me? –... And now, after turning my _only_ friend into a beast worthy for a mad version of Frankenstein’s monster... You come here and kill the one that tried to kill me _again_? Why?!” The man was patting.

Bendy was struggling to find some words to explain himself; he never needed them before. And now, for the first time, he didn’t want to be blamed for all the monstrosities that were happening among the studio. Why he cared so bad? Was maybe because the bit of soul that got from that man? Was this the reason why he felt it so warm? Concern? Bendy was concerned? A _demon_ was _concerned_?! What a mock of a demon was he now? And even thought, he didn’t want this feeling to fade, he liked it. He wanted more, but now it seemed like too obvious that killing him wouldn’t give him that same feeling...

“Ah... don’t throw me those guilty eyes. It’s not like if you hadn’t tried this ‘killing thing’ before, I’m sure!” Wait, eyes? Was he seeing his eyes? How did it...? “How many ones have been before me? Alice told me about ‘the puddles’ and that ‘well of voices’, and I don’t think that is filled with just random noises. Sure those must be the ones trapped here and murdered, don’t they?”

The man was still babbling, but Bendy wasn’t quite hearing. He still couldn’t understand why he saw his eyes. He passed his gloved hand by his face; no ink dripping. Indeed, he _felt_ his eye jerk and blink when he did so. He was so used to the ink dripping over him that he never was actually able to touch his eyes. Why he felt so confused, but so relieved...?

“ **How did you do it?** ” The demon trailed off the man’s hysteric rambling, only to leave him frozen in confusion over the demon’s question.

The demon approached to the human rushed, not letting him to react when he held his arms against his own body tightly, but this wasn’t a menacing grip, no... Was he desperate? Why? The reasons, albeit, didn’t seem to change the man’s frightened expression, as he was griping with a lot of strength. When he realized how tough he was being, confused, he released him. The man grabbed his own arms in a crossed pose, only to rub where he was being held.

“What was that all about?!” He yelled. Bendy was sure he could hear the beats of his heart pounding strong in his chest, the same way his old victims sounded when he started to chase them, but this one wasn’t running...

“ **You did something... Your soul did! It healed my sight!** ”

“What? My soul? What are you talking ‘bout?” Of course he didn’t know what he meant; humans can’t see beyond the material realm. But Bendy was sure it had something to do. Was that over the feelings he was experimenting when he saw the beast dropped?

“ **What did you feel when the beast fell defeated?** ”

“What? You mean Boris? What kind of question is that?”

“ **What Did You Feel?!** ” He tried to sound menacing, but the mere truth was that it was fake, he still felt confused.

“Okay! Okay! I, ah... I felt... I felt... like if someone would have stabbed their fist in my chest and gripped my heart and squeezed it ‘til it burst...”

“ **But your heart’s still beating inside of you...** ”

“I know! It’s rhetorical!” Oh, rhetorical. Demons used to be so literal that that kind of speaking wasn’t part of his knowledges. How could he tell the difference?

“The truth is...” The man stepped back a little, enough to lean back on a Gent machine that was behind, and slowly he left his body to drop and take seat in the floor. This man must be really tired. “...that since I got in here, Boris was the first one to actually help me. He refuged me, gave me something to eat that wasn’t that disgusting cold soup... well, it was, but warmed up it wasn’t so bad...” The man giggled over his memories, and then he saw again: the flakes slightly floating over the man. Bendy just kept watching; he didn’t want the man to stop, not until he could see more of those flakes.

“He made me feel safe in a place where everything’s been trying to kill me...” That last sentence was combined with a glare towards the demon that made the flakes to fade again.

“He became in the only friend I could trust in this slaughter house. He tried to save me...” The flakes started to shimmer intermittently, and Bendy was still in awe watching them flutter.  “And when that mock of Alice took him away, I didn’t know how... but I knew I _had_ to save him, somehow, at any cost... but I was late, and she turned him in that mindless beast... I didn’t want to do that, but I didn’t want to die either... I don’t feel like it worth it, I failed him...! Now I’m here, alone again, trapped for who knows how much longer...” And he just let himself sink in his own crying. He clearly was devastated.

And with that solitude feeling, the shimmering flakes faded once again. Bendy only stared to the air, didn’t catch any of the bits floating around this time. But recalling to the words the man said, there was something that he could get as conclusion of his tale: he was his _friend_.

“ **Friend?** ”

“Yes, a friend. He was my friend... He _was_...” And the flakes again reappeared. Maybe there was something about that label that made his soul to just spread itself around him. How could he recall it?

“ **Joey Drew is your friend?** ” The man took a little to clean his tears from his face before he could answer.

“I _thought_ he was my friend. 30 years ago we were, and then we fought, I left and...” Flakes were fading again. “...and now he sent me this letter so I came to visit him, but the only thing I’ve met so far are ink monsters.” And then again he shot that hatred glare towards him. Honestly, he couldn’t argue back; that’s what he was after all. But maybe there was something he could do.

“ **Want to see him?** ”

~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ink DeMonth is here, and since _this_ is the "Pocket-size!Bendy AU, I thought that update the chapter today would be fitting~
> 
> Today's theme: Growth. And holy, Bendy here grew close, then grew big, and then grew hopeful. ~~Is this interpretation too elaborated? ^^U~~

After that offering, the human stayed with wide opened eyes, surely thinking that was some kind of trick. But Bendy didn’t want to trick him anymore, no. He wanted to learn. Why those flickering flakes of soul spread when the human talks about others with so much concerning? Why those bits were so different from the ones that he simply took from the ones lost in the ink? Was it, maybe, like what he said about that ‘bacon soup’? Warmed is better? A warmed soul tasted better? What warmed a soul?

And a while after the human accepted his offering, they started to walk once again through the studio’s old hallways. The man was unarmed, so every time an ink monster appeared, Bendy was the one that destroyed him, sucking their soul in the process, but now they simply didn’t feel the same as they used. Sometimes a searcher appeared from behind, tugging the man’s leg and hurting him, and Bendy appeared just in time to not let them drag him into the ink.

In a moment, they decided to pause and find a place to rest in a room where more bacon soup cans were piled. The human got hungry and he couldn’t feed himself with pieces of soul like the demon next to him, so it had to be that nasty soup if he wanted to keep living a little longer. And even the smell was nasty, as the demon sniffed a little to an open can and couldn’t help but pose a disgusting look in his face. The man giggled over his reaction, and Bendy could see again how those flickering flakes started to flutter around once again.

This should have been his chance: the moment to catch a flake once again and feel its warmth. But as he did, the man just stared at him with half of the soup in midways to his mouth. Then he realized how weird it might had looked to him catching like an invisible bug around his head, but anyhow, that just made the man laugh even louder, and that made the demon laugh too. It felt nice. He was surrounded by bits of warm soul, and didn’t need to sacrifice anyone to feed him.

Why Joey never did this with him...?

Along their way it seemed like if the man trusted him a little more. Henry was his name. And according to what he could recall from those silly cartoons that meant to be his shape, he was the first one on conceive them, draw them and animate them. He was the first one who brought to life that ‘Little Devil Darling’ named Bendy; name that he adopted as he was intended to incarnate him in the real life.

Their path felt somehow less dim and more enlightened, as they were now surrounded by those bright flickering bits of soul. Maybe Henry didn’t realize of that change of light, but certainly he felt less frightened around him. Even more curious, Bendy’s height now matched the human’s height; a couple of hours ago he was towering him and now his body felt different: no more ribs or spine or even hips peeking out of his inky skin, and his twisted leg was pointing forwards. The soul bits were still fluttering around, but Bendy felt satisfied, didn’t want to eat by now.

But all that glimmer and glee between them faded and came to an end when both faced the door in which the man that sent him the letter should be. Bendy could see how Henry took a deep breath, unsure of what to do. Was he still thinking this was some kind of trick? Maybe he did, from the way that he glanced between the knob and him. No, probably was something else, after all he told him that they had a fight. Was he scared of the man behind that door?

Bendy was also unsure. After all, the man behind that door had been hiding from him for over 20 years, sending letters to innocent people to sacrifice them and make sure he wouldn’t claim his soul. Not like if Bendy were aware before, but maybe if he had been more like Henry, not afraid of him, maybe then he would have avoided all of this suffering inside the walls of the studio. Wait a minute, he is a _demon_. Why he cared about the ‘would-have-been-s’? Geez, it seemed like those warm pieces of soul really made their effect in his mind... but he didn’t care, Bendy felt his best since an eternity and didn’t want that feeling to fade.

Bendy saw Henry’s hand clutched around the doorknob, unsure if he would dare to open it. Bendy leaned his gloved hand over his and together they opened the door. And there was he: Joey Drew. Just like the last time he saw him when he summoned him, sitting in his chair beneath his desk.

He would have been surprised of him if he were acting smooth and calm in front of the demon, but instead, Bendy’s attention landed on how terrified looked the one next to him. Henry was watching the man, with a wide stare that, as humans say, was like if he was seeing a ghost... hold on a minute, Joey shouldn’t look quite like Henry’s age? They’re supposed to be friends when they were _young_ , but as Bendy could remark, that man looked _just like the last time he saw him when he summoned him_ , and that was over 20 years ago. And if he was a human, just like Henry, what did he eat to keep himself alive? And that pale skin quite like the skin parts on that warped angel...

A swirl of thoughts started to take place on Bendy’s mind, nearly unable to catch each one of them, but all around the same topic that piece by piece started to match and make sense. The demon could hear the two men talking, and then slowly started to argue, becoming louder and louder, but he didn’t quite listen their chattering, not until the pale/greyish younger man pointed out his presence in the room with panic and anger.

That’s when all the thoughts on Bendy ended up clicking and he realized: the man didn’t summon him to keep him fed and wandering inside the studio, but to collect souls so _that man_ could prolong his very own life. He _used_ him to sacrifice the lives of poor innocent people that trusted the man enough to come over the wrecking building! He used him, he _lied_ to him! And _he_ was the one consuming the souls of people that thought this man was their _friend_! Maybe Bendy was a demon, but Joey Drew was an authentic _monster._

Bendy couldn’t control it. He felt a rage like no other he remembered have felt. His body once again felt stretched and with his bones peeking through his skin, and the ink dripping once again over his eyes. It’s out of any doubt that that man, Joey Drew, never stopped fearing that demon, but now there were reasons to fear him, and that escalated beyond his self-awareness.

Joey tried to recoil, to hide somewhere, but the demon was as big as fast. Bendy charged his sharped claws towards the man’s chest, and got to hurt him, but what emanated from that wound wasn’t blood. Both Bendy and Henry were petrified by the fact that the man before them was bleeding ink! He was no longer a human, and by his appearance it was long ago since his flesh was turned into an outrageous imitation of skin.

Against any tad of reason, the ink that now covered Bendy’s claws only made his rage to grow worse, and with it, his body changed again: his head, horns, torso and arms grew grotesquely, and all the ink in his body ended up covering the last white parts, only leaving a sharping fanged maw. But his legs were dangling back, unable to reach the floor, so he supported his body’s weight on his fists as he used them to walk and attack, and that’s what he did.

He approached to Joey, slowly. With a fist-step he smashed the desk in pieces, and leaving no way where the ink man could run or hide, he simply crushed his body, offering his remnants to the ink. If eternity was what he wanted, then he could find it as any other monster inside the ink void; Bendy wouldn’t even to dare to touch that nasty soul. If only his rage would’ve stopped there...

He felt _cheated_. He felt _used_! That man summoned him with a fake promise of ‘incarnate a toon character’, even knowing that the only way to sustain that demon was offering souls in exchange. How could he even be a toon with such demoniac appearance? Why he never connected the pieces before? Decades should have passed to realize, to light up his lies.

The demon was so into his emotional trail of thoughts that didn’t notice the man, the human behind him. A human who tried to call him back; a human that witnessed his bestial form and his heartless acts, and still was calling for him; a human that couldn’t find another way to contact the demon that stood with his back facing him, growling and roaring, so he drew closer to him so he could touch his arm... a human that was defenseless against a razor-sharp attack and too slow to avoid it...

Bendy stopped growling. He heard the man yelling painfully as he stepped back. Then he looked down to his clawed hand and that wasn’t ink in it, for sure. He injured Henry. As soon as he noticed it, Bendy started to panic. His shape changed back into that primal towering and dripping monster, unable to regain the height that earned when he was walking along the hallways with Henry, and the blood in his deformed hand wasn’t leaving.

He didn’t want to, the man startled him! And now he felt so bad, guilty, fearful... he had never felt fear in his existence. This was how his victims used to feel in front of him? Because he felt paralyzed, unable to react or to think, only waiting for something to happen, anything... but nothing. Only the sore cry of the man that now landed on the floor, curling over him as a way to contain his pain.

Bendy couldn’t just stay; he couldn’t be another victim of himself.

He passed his gloved hand through his face, in a vague attempt to smear the ink from his eyes, but the most he managed was to clear the sight of only one of them, and barely. And then he rushed towards Henry, hoping for the best– or the less bad, at least. But when he tried to examine, the man rejected him. That should have made him furious, he knew that; but instead, it made him feel sad, hurt... Bendy stepped back, only to stop when his back met the wall. And there he flopped on the ground, clutching his own deformed legs, hugging them so he could bury his face in them.

And so he spent the next minutes, too ashamed to lift his look while he heard the cries of the human in the other side of the room. But then, silence. Did he die? No, Bendy still could hear the thumping sound of the man’s heart. Then why he stopped yelling? Curiosity– no. not curiosity this time. _Concern_ seemed to take place in Bendy’s chest, and he dared to peek out his only visible eye. And there it was again: a flake, a single flake, floating just in front of him, weakly with its beam dimmed.

He looked at Henry; the man managed to lean against the wall to take seat while he held his left arm tightly with his right hand. Bendy felt so relieved to see that he only wounded his arm... but he still wounded him, and there was no enough relief to overlap his shame.

But then again, what was doing that flake floating in front of him? Henry did it, _intentionally_? He peeked again to the man, but couldn’t recognize his stare. Was he waiting for Bendy to do something with that bit? How, if humans can’t see beyond the material realm? Or was he just shooting another of those glares?

Anyhow, the man wasn’t quitting his eyes off him. So Bendy did what he thought it must have meant, and took it. Indeed, it felt weak, like if a gloomy feeling filled that bit, and that made him feel sorrowed; great, like if there were no other way to make him feel worse than already. Maybe he deserved it...

After Bendy caught the flake, he turned to see Henry, but the man just narrowed aside and let go an empty sigh. He got to stand up despite the pain that made him lose a little balance, and then he headed to the door, still holding tight his bleeding wound. Only bending his elbow, so he could reach the doorknob with his left hand, he opened the door, ready to leave that room.

The demon just watched him as he stood in the threshold. Why he wasn’t leaving? And then is when the man turned half his head to him, still with that cold, tired look in his eye. Henry blinked slowly as he nodded; was allowing Bendy to come with him after all he had done? Bendy felt confused, but also felt the urge to go with him, only that he didn’t dare to stand too close to the man. But it seemed to catch the right message, as Henry started to walk as soon as the demon approached to him.

And they walked through the hallways again, but now there was no chattering, no cheerful giggles, no shimmering flakes to enlighten their path; just silence, a heavy pressing silence. Bendy kept his distance from Henry right behind him. And every once they met a junction, Bendy limited himself to whine and point a direction that the man followed blindly. The demon assumed that the human only wanted to leave from this pit, so the route he pointed would have taken him to the exit. But why the man was still listening, _trusting_ him, with all that he did and what he saw he could do? Bendy didn’t deserve the man’s trust.

And they finally made it: the ground floor. By this part, Henry easily could make it through the halls with no indications, even when it was filled with debris and dripping ink everywhere from when he turned on the machine. They passed by the lounge that used to be the break room for his ex-coworkers; up by the stairs to meet by his right the hall that leaded to that hideous ink machine, and in front of him more hallways that leaded to that ‘shrine/power room’. The exit was by the left.

They walked by that ominous wall with the inscription of “ ** _DREAMS COME TRUE_** ”; they both stared to it a while, and Henry just gave a shake to his head before keeping going.

And there they were: the main hall, with the little projector at the right end of it and the main sign of the studio with the appearance of some reel tapes, all under broken planks and exposed broken pipes. And just a few yards away through the last hallway by their left: the exit.

Henry was ready to take his last steps out of the studio, when in midways he just stopped and stared to the other side of the room, where behind just some more planks piled next to the wall and across the path, a small hallway leaded to an old artist desk, another one from the bunch around the studio. Then why he stood still? Even more, he _headed_ towards that desk. What made it so interesting?

When they got there, Bendy saw the man resting his hand in that old desk; it seemed to have a little doodle of the devil toon with a cute face, but also a post above it with the word “ **NO** ”. That definitely didn’t feel well, but the man seemed to take it deeply personal, as he stiffed his hand over it and trembled a little. It was that or the wound was far more painful than the man tried to show. Anyway it was, that seemed to flood the man with a pool of emotions, as some flickering flakes shone as bright as quick, lasting less than a couple of seconds.

But there was no time– nor will –to ask about that, since Henry just turned out and dodging more debris from the floor, walked straight towards the exit. But then he froze again. Bendy peeked over the man’s shoulder to see why, and he saw the hole in which he fell the first time they encountered. Tired and injured and old, it wasn’t like if he could take a step back and jump it cleanly to reach the door; so Bendy moved as fast as he could, collecting some planks that weren’t too ruined, and placed them as a bridge to allow the man walk and reach his so waited freedom.

Bendy couldn’t help, but he expected something; a word, a gesture, even a glare from the man’s part. But he only crossed the planks, held the doorknob, and after relaxing his stiffened shoulders, he crossed the gate and shut the door behind him. Henry left.

And there he was again, alone in a wrecking building, only inhabited by the rest of suffering, cold bits of souls that only made him feel their fear, sadness and despair. Once again being the lurking demon haunting these walls. And as strange as it sounded for a demon as he was, that made him feel bad; maybe it was a short time, but he ended up enjoying the time with that old man– the time that he stopped chasing him to get know him a little and when the man seemed to start liking his companion enough to show it in ways of fluttering bits of warm soul. Would he miss the man or only the way those bits made him feel?

But anyway it where, Bendy only stood there, still watching the door for a while after the man crossed it. He was about to turn away of it when he heard some thumps from it. And after some few more knocks, the door opened, showing the same man, still holding his bleeding arm, but now also limping as he tried to carry a suitcase inside as well as holding a little box under his arm.

“What are you doing just staring at me like that? Come here and help me!”

~~~~~~~~~~


	3. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm posting this quite quickly, ain't I? x3
> 
> The truth is... the fourth chapter fits to a day of the Ink DeMonth, and well, this is a multi-chapter thing, it NEEDS to go in order.
> 
> Although after that I won't promise about how frequent I'll be posting things. But you still can enjoy every other thing I'm posting/premiering thanks to this event :DDD
> 
> Enjoy!!

His eye widened startled, but he didn’t need to think much about, as he rushed to hold the man’s baggage and the box that was slipping from under his arm.

Henry crossed again the plank bridge and headed to sit right where that desk was cornered. Bendy was following him with the baggage and the box, his eye wasn’t twitching apart from the man. When Henry sat down, he asked the demon for the box that he was holding; resulted to be a first aid kit.

He laid the box on the desk, held the sleeve of his injured arm from the shoulder’s seam, and tried to rip it off with the strength of his jaw and good arm, as careful as possible with the wound. He used the cloth piece to end up cleaning the blood stains in his arm, and then proceeded to use the items inside the kit.

Bendy felt so many emotions at the same time: he felt relieved, but also confused; happy to see him back, but worried about his state and what any other peril could be left in and around this building. The man he was staring only held a narrowed look, and he was unable to read what was he thinking or feeling. But all that Bendy was thinking about was why the man chose to stay, why he didn’t leave, go to some place where his injuries could be treated and healed? Why he asked him for help with that baggage if the only things he was using were the ones in the little box?

“ **...Why?** ” Henry glanced to him a little without stopping his process on treating his wound.

“I can’t drive with my arm like this. If there’s something that the army taught me along my years in service, was to always be prepared.” The last part was accompanied with a little knock to the first aid box, showing what he meant.

“ **So you’re staying?** ” Henry stared him a moment, as Bendy tried to hold the most sheepish look he could with only one eye visible. And Henry stared a little longer, studying the demon while he pressed his lips. He stopped his labor, leaving the bandages aside while he looked like thinking about the question.

Bendy showed his anxiety as well, as he started to rub one hand against the other. Why did it matter so much whatever the man could say? He was a _demon_ , for the lord’s sake! Why he cared so much about that man? What did his soul do with his mind...? But for any debate that was holding inside his head, he shook them aside; it didn’t matter what he should be doing or thinking or feeling as the demon he was, because now he was there, standing before a man that showed him no more fear, and he felt the need of more of his warm, concerned, compassionate bits of soul. He felt the need of a feeling that could fill him with acceptance.

Bendy heard the man release a deep sigh, and that’s when he started to answer him.

“I don’t know if I’d say that I’ll stay, _stay._ But as far as I’ve seen you’re not so different from me right now...” Bendy looked at him, simply startled. “We both’ve been tricked by Joey’s lies. I know how convincing he could be, that’s why we fought the very first time. I worked so hard in the design of my characters, but every time I presented him a new concept he always had something to say and mark them as rejected. And that’s what happened once: I made Bendy, _my_ Bendy, and he rejected it to later only change his grin, and claim it as his. I felt outraged, but after a lot of his manipulative babbling, I let it pass and kept working with him. In the end, I was the only one from both working for that show, and he only made his name to appear in the credits, erasing mine and taking all the glory for my job. I fought with him, and then I left. 30 years must have passed for me to realize that that man was nothing but an egomaniac with power lust; that damn machine, the people who came... you being cheated as well, making his dirty deeds for him... I actually feel so naïve for having thought that he could really be interested in meeting me once again...”

Some flakes were floating around, too dim and weak. Bendy didn’t want to move and take the man out of his thoughts, so while listening, he patiently waited for one bit to approach close enough to him without needing to catch it. And just like the one in Joey’s office, this one also felt gloomy.

“ **Why aren’t you angry with him?** ”

Henry gazed him with eyes a little wide opened. It seemed like that thought didn’t really crossed his mind.

“I guess I’m too old to still be angry with a man that doesn’t deserve it. I can’t say that I’d forgive him– I expected this meeting would be a chance to see if our old quarrels were a matter of the past, let the bygones be bygones as they say, and, I don’t know, move on somehow. But now I got to find that he only made me come here to sacrifice me for his ‘eternal youth’ madness, without needing to move a single finger. Heh! I guess he’s just too good at making other people do the hard work for him... I did, after all...”

Indeed, there were not a tad of anger as in the man’s face as in the dim flakes, as there was only a heavy sad feeling of disappointment. As far as Bendy could realize, this man really wanted to give a last try to the words of his ex-friend, but there were never truths behind those words, so why he wanted to listen to him once more?

“All I wanted to see was if Joey was different, if years had treated him the way he deserved or well enough to look back and see the mistakes of his acts; that’s what old people like us use to do at least… But never expected this kind of ‘different’...”

“ **Then why’d you stay here?** ” It ended to be obvious for the demon that this place was only a nightmare for the tired human in front of him, and not only for what he has been through the last days, but also all that he was dragging from his past in here: nothing but bitterness, tiredness, delusions and broken dreams... all of that because of the same man that wanted to take the best of him a last time.

Bendy really wanted an explanation, since there was no real reason to stay, at least, not for more than a couple of days, and that baggage he was carrying was pretty big.

Henry meanwhile was now staring blank to the floor in front of him, probably thinking about. He dropped his shoulders and let a deep, sorrow sigh escape from him before starting to answer his new question.

“I... already told you:  I can’t drive like this. Even when I used to work in here, it took me about half an hour to get from here to downtown, and twenty minutes from there to my home. Now I don’t even live in this same city. I brought this suitcase because I can’t afford a 9 hours trip in one shot.” So that was why: he needed some rest before keep going. Why he even thought that he would want to stay in first place?

“But also...” Wait, there’s more? That single ‘but’ was enough to lighten up the demon with... can demons feel hope? And the flickering flakes were around once again. Henry was staring at him with a tired look in his eyes, but it seemed like something else, definitely. “Honestly, I feel bad for you. I don’t know who or _what_ you are, but you definitely are just another victim of Joey’s deceits.”

The man locked his stare in the demon’s eye with a stern look, like analyzing which were going to be his next words.

“You can change your form, don’t you?” Even when they both noticed what he was able to do, Bendy couldn’t give anything but a confused answer; not even he was aware of what he could do. “Then you’ve always been like that?” The man waved his hand through the air, showing the demon his own shape; whose answer was just a head shake, meaning ‘no’. “Then how should you look like?” The demon glanced around to a cutout of the grinning cartoon that was behind the desk and pointed to it. “And what happened?” There was not a short answer for that question.

“ **I... don’t know, actually... When Joey Drew first summoned me, I _had_ that shape, shorter, but was it. He told me that I was going to incarnate that cartoon character, but in exchange I needed souls.**” With that statement, Henry’s eyes opened wide startled; little details of being a demon... “ **Time passed, he wasn’t giving me any. I started to change... like this...** ” His stare pointed down, watching his own hands. “ **I demanded what he promised me, to fulfill his part of the deal...!** ” He clenched his hands with rage; his mismatched hands... the sight of those for the very first time made him feel bad, even sad. Everything in him was wrong! He was not the one they promised he was going to be. “ **Then he stared to send the letters. One by one they came. He told me that I could get feed from them as long I don’t touch his. That the machine could work as storage for the ripped souls...** ”

“And then is when Joey started to use you as a harvester for _his_ own purposes...” Henry stared again in the blank space, only shaking his head in disapproval. “I think I can get what happened then with you...” The demon looked up at him, like he could hold the answer of his destiny or sort of. He couldn’t deny it: he _felt_ filled of hope with what the man apparently said; only expected that he wasn’t another ‘Joey Drew’.

“Cartoons... are meant to bring joy to people’s lives, or at least that’s what I pretended with this lil’ buddy. If you were promised to be him, then you should have not only looked like him, but also do what he used to do. Killing people, turn them into ink monsters... definitely’s not something that _my_ Bendy would have done...”

As frustrating as it might be, that actually made sense. Joey never complied his part of the deal, and finding some alternative way to fulfill his starve was what really affected his way of be. Yes, he _was_ a demon, but he was supposed to be ‘ _The dancing demon_ ’, and he wasn’t.

“Tell me something: how did you feel when we were walking along before meeting Joey?”

How did he feel? Bendy furrowed a little, trying to think in that moment. They were walking, they were chattering. There was no fear, no starve, no _pain_! Maybe he didn’t realize in that quite moment, but he wasn’t limping. He raised his look, staring now to the man sitting in that old artist chair and desk. He started to think on how he was around him; giggling, calmed, even enjoying his companionship. The flickering bits of soul from him made him feel complete, warm, so in peace with himself... Bendy couldn’t help but released an honest relieved snicker; his whole body relaxed before the memories and his grin even seemed sheer and authentic. Out of reflex he rubbed his face with the back of his gloved hand and didn’t realized he got to smear more of the dripping ink of his sight, revealing now both of his eyes.

His thoughts were taken down when he heard Henry releasing a chuckle; probably he gave him an answer and didn’t notice it. The old man looked at him with a relieving smile as well that a lot of those fluttering bits starter to fill the tinny space where they were. Bendy looked startled; he felt nice, and that made the man feel happy as well? That’s what he meant with that thing of ‘bring joy to people’? Oh, lord; he felt so confused now... but a good kind of confused...

“See what I mean? Someone could say that with two good eyes you could!” And now the man tried to be funny with him... “I don’t know how these demon things works, and quite probably my beloved wife, who rest in peace, would be giving me an earful for this... but I want to help you... You don’t deserve all the mistreats that Joey did with you, and if there’s something that I could do for you to be the one you’re supposed to be, then I’ll stay as long as it needs to be...”

Bendy couldn’t control it, but something big and warm filled inside his whole chest. It seemed to be too big, because now it was crawling through his throat, making him to clench his grin and it started to make his eyes sting. What was it? He felt the helpless urge to... cry? Cry for what? Crying was something that humans did when they felt sad or scared, but he didn’t felt like any of that! He felt... he felt happy... crying and happiness were not a compatible sentiment and act. But this was flooding him... he never, _ever_ , cried before. How was it?

Maybe the man noticed his clenched state, for when he looked at him, he opened his arms as wide as he could, and with a reassuring smile, he nodded, inviting him to come close to him.

Bendy didn’t think twice, as he practically flopped over the man’s gesture and started to cry, with a mixture of sobs and hiccups that didn’t allow him to breathe quietly. Funny thing: his tears were of ink, just like the rest of his body and everything else in that studio, and those started to stain Henry’s shirt. He apologized for the mess he was causing, but he realized it made not much sense since the man’s shirt was already torn and worn out.

“Do you have a name?” Henry asker after the wrecked demon started to calm a little, but anyways he didn’t receive a quick answer, since the demon took his time to think about it.

“ **I adopted the cartoon character’s name, since I was supposed to be him.** ” _Supposed to be_ , and Joey restrained it.

“And you want to be him?”

That question caught him off-ward, as he didn’t really think about what he was supposed to be until this man appeared like he was now. But if being like the cartoon demon was what truly filled his sentiments with acceptance, with not feeling wrong in every single way, feeling like the animators might say as ‘on model’, and even more if that meant being fueled by the kindness of this man, who’s containing his despair and comforting him, then that Bendy, _that real Bendy_ would be all that he wanted to be.

After a long moment where his tears flowed evenly, he lifted his look to vigorously nod over the idea.

“Then I’ll make sure that you become Bendy; _my perfect_ Bendy.”

~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Reformed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already said that this chapter fits the Day theme Redesign, so I just waited for the date to release it! ^^
> 
> But as I said before, I won't make promises about the next update. They'll come as they flow~
> 
> Enjoy It!!

That statement, that _real_ promise, was filled entirely of determination as well as of tenderness. A promise that guaranteed the compliment of the original deal, as for the requirements of such never had a deadline to assure the ending of the contract, not even the death of one of the parts.

The demon would receive the souls that helped him to feed himself, and those very same bits of souls made him, as time passed by, reach that ‘perfect state’ that was the silhouette of the Little Devil Darlin’. He _now_ was becoming Bendy, the true, on model one. And not even he could have thought as the demon he was that such goal never would have needed the sacrifices that Joey Drew was willing to commit– and did indeed. Only needed the fluttering pieces that every hearted, cheerful and kind human unknowingly spread with the moments they share between them.

Bits and pieces and moments that he could have received since the beginning if it weren’t for the nefarious intentions that Joey tricked him into...

But now, living with this human, one true-to-his-heart... for the first time in his whole material existence he felt like he really had a purpose; _the_ purpose he was first summoned for.

But changes came slowly, and not only for his body. Bendy couldn’t really leave the building as this, ironically, was the safest place to keep a creature so alien from the world. But also every creaking board and grunting pipe was the announce of an incoming structure catastrophe, and that turned the building a deadly trap for the old man that decided to live with him. Let alone the ink creatures that already roamed wherever they may find a bubbling puddle.

The trapped souls...

With the times he had got to share with the old man he made sure of one thing: never consume another soul by forcing it. No more suffering, no more despair. In no need of such tainted souls, why even keep running the sole thing that kept them trapped and suffering...? but if they turned off the machine they’d also turn off whatever magic that was able to keep their bodies together: the searchers, lost ones, and so the Demon’s own body.

But even more risky: it wasn’t out of chance that those scattered pieces of lost souls in the ink could form another conscious being, and as hostile as the majority that Henry has crossed path were, that really put on perspective whether his choices might be the right ones.

“But those things only come out of those puddles that are splotching around, no?” The man’s question was answered with a quick and anxious nod. “And those come from the leaking pipes, am I right?” Another nervous nod he got as response.

“But... but maybe I... I could get rid of them! I mean, if there’s no more trapped souls in the ink, then those things wouldn’t be something to worry about–” The demon said with a higher pitch of voice than he used to. A voice closer to the one he once had, and one that should have always had in purpose of being _the dancing demon_.

With the time they’d spent together, not only his voice, but his entire body has started to take the path of recovery and, even though had not being perfected yet, certainly he had begun to approach to the shape he should have: smaller, less intimidating; arms, legs and horns more proportionated, with both eyes visible and surely not dripping as much ink as he used to. Those changes were somehow slow to achieve, and therefore was something that Henry was not willing to lose in order to comply his promise. And that’s why he cut the demon off his proposal.

“Taking them would make you to turn into that towering form of yours?” The answer was hold a little as there was no way he could think to avoid a clear response, and even less chances to straightly deny it. “That form of yours was hurtful for you...” The smaller demon took away his stare from the man’s eyes remorseful. _That_ was something he simply couldn’t deny. “I won’t take that chance. Look, if those things come from the puddles, then we need to get rid of those.”

“And how you think we can do that?”

“Cleaning.” He answered with simple optimism. “And repairing the pipes somehow. There were a lot of logs describing how those things work, and near Joey’s office was a maintenance office from that brand or company that built those machines around that produce objects made of ink. I’m sure there should be something telling us more about all the machinery around this place. We should be able to take care of all with a little of hard work.”

His response might have seemed kind of naïve in Bendy’s opinion, but the certainty which the man spoke anyhow moved the demon in to believe that it had a solution that simple. Even though, as they both started to steadily work in the repair of the studio and its machinery, that’s when he realized it wasn’t as simple as he made it sound. Bursting pipes showering both of them, unscrewing bolts that ended up spitting in someone’s face, a wrong step that ended with one’s foot trapped in a floor’s hole, or even worse, a weak surface that gave in a void beneath the floor. Such situations always were accompanied by a rush of emotions from at least one of the parts in the duo; the adrenaline from Bendy trying to catch a heavy man before disappearing into the nothingness (or at least before landing in a hit on a floor below), the nervous giggles from the other seeing how close it was to getting hurt once again, or even the vociferous cackles from one of them seeing the other bathed in harmless ink, trying fruitlessly to take it off their face with even more soaked hands.

Indeed, not everything had to be fear and wariness due the fragility of the building, as even the worse times in there they were able to support each other and strengthen their relationship, growing their trust between them and being able to rely in the other whenever one was in need. And doubtlessly, every single time they shared was a warm fest of shimmering bits of soul that helped the demon to gain a cheerful attitude and a lovable shape. This was the demon he supposed to be.

But of course, that was when they were together, as for when Henry had to go out on errands, Bendy couldn’t help but feel his anxiety grow with no clear reasons he could explain. Luckily, those errands only lasted a few hours, since it was necessary for the man to go and get some material that could help them in their repairs or groceries for him being able to feed and sustain himself as the human he was. But the moment he had to part back to his home, out of the city and days away from the demon, was rather another story.

“...you really have to go?” Bendy asked with sorrow as he watched the man packing his dusty and worn clothes in the same baggage he brought the day he decided to stay with the demon.

Honestly, he really had to wear and over-wear the very same clothes since it had been already like four months from that day, and none of those were really the best attire for all the repair work he had been doing the last time. Bendy had to understand, these weren’t the best conditions for him to keep doing things. And also, if living in here was his final decision, he needed to tie up loose ends back at his lonely place.

“I’m sorry. I have to.” He answered, catching on the distress the now little demon was brimming, cupping his floating head on his hand as a way to comfort him, even if it was a brief comfort. Although some bit of soul flakes started to float around them, their taste was gloomy, matching the feelings of both for the departure.

The time they’ve spent together might have not been the longest in comparison to the years the demon had been trapped with an unfulfilled deal and unsatisfied purpose, but surely had been enough for him to recover the perfect little shape he always meant to have. And leaving him for days, even if these won’t be much, anyways left them both in the anxiety of what could happen. Bendy had to recognize that even for Henry’s liking, maybe a couple of days could be too much for the rehabbed demon.

“I’ll try to take no longer than a week. Leaving the house for rent would help us with money to buy more material to repair stuffs here and some other stuffs to furnish the place around. And I’ll have to tell my daughter that I’m coming back to live in here– well, not _here_ , the studio here, but back to the city at least.” He summarized the tasks he’d have to do. “Change address, cancel some services, get my stuffs packed and bring them here...” Would a week be enough time to give a closure to all he left behind? Not even the demon could tell how much time it was needed, but catching on the dim flakes surrounding him, he might tell the man was feeling the weight of leaving the now inoffensive creature alone for such time.

Bendy didn’t need to look him right to his face, but he could feel his stare. And now, as he was contemplating one of those cold bits, clearly he could say he might look like he was cupping something invisible between his hands. But that invisible flake caught his whole attention as he was staring at it with sorrowful longing.

What would happen to him without his feeding resource?

Honestly, at the beginning the idea of the demon needing souls to be fed was pretty much shocking for the human, but not entirely away from what the common knowledge imagined a being of his nature would need. But the demon tried to explain from time to time. And the human was learning, even if it was vaguely, that souls are not quite a caged thing that might require tearing a body apart to release it, giving the chance to the demon to catch it and consume it, no. The souls are, as he’d taught him, something beyond, that living creatures are capable to spread among them in these situations that signified the share of an emotion, of an experience, of those little moments where one’s mind is settled on another someone and the meaning that other had for the first one thinking of them; and mirrored their significance. But for demons, lacking of one, that was something even more material; a manifestation of all of this in the shape of tiny glowing things that certainly humans could not fathom, despite how simple they seemed in the eyes of the demon.

And all these moments he had been sharing with the demon had meant that he was feeding him–in the right way, nonetheless! –as just for being next to him he had managed to take the shape of his beloved creation.

But then again, what could happen to this demon, a _real_ one, if there were no pieces of this soul fluttering around him for he to consume?

The weight of the implications that he had no way to ponder started to show in the man’s actions, as he was slowing his movements to a point where he simply stopped and started to stare into the nothingness. And even beyond, only for Bendy being able to notice, the fluttering bits of soul dimmed completely until disappear.

“...Henry?” Silence was his first answer for a few seconds.

“Bendy, you–...” He paused, releasing a deep sigh and hunching his shoulders a tad like trying to hold an invisible weight upon him. “...will you be okay without me being here... for a whole week?”

This question caught off guard to the small demon, as his first reaction were confused sounds when he couldn’t articulate proper words, at the same time that he himself tried to gauge what it meant for him if Henry leaves for a longer while. And in middle of the departure stress, he wasn’t even able to register what he really meant with that inquiry.

“I... I don’t see why not. It’s not like a lot of people come here really–”

“No, Bendy. I mean...” He sighed once again. “It is okay for you... not... _eating_ all this time? Will you be okay?” Concern surrounded him and not only for his features, but also the bits reappeared around, dimmed. And its gloominess irradiated the same distress with not even needing to catch them.

“Oh...” Was all the little demon was able to mutter. He really got so used to just being around him that actually was effortless the task of keeping himself fed. Indeed, although he still was conscious and able to catch the flickers of the man’s soul as he was doing in that right moment, with their time together that had turned more like a curious playing where he tried to read the emotional state of the human, and leaving the feeding part as something more unconscious as those same bits just floated around him and his body only absorbed them.

“Bendy, I know what we both said, but if it is too much you can take the bits from the trapped ones in the ink. And whatever it affects to you, we’ll spend more time together after that. We can fix you back!” Was the suggestion from the man, even when the pain from the sole idea made his bits dim into nothing as he also stared away in resignation... and shame for the proposal...

“But I don’t want to!” Exclaimed the demon with fierce determination. “Those ones are from people that suffered and are in pain and rage and, and all it for my fault, and make me feel cold and angry and hurt and I–... I...” His rant came to a stop as he saw the bright bits surrounding him, and then he felt the tender hand of the man, stroking between his horns in slow motions that helped him ground his ideas and his skipping heartbeat. He was no longer in pain. He had the perfect shape of the dancing demon. He didn’t need these other bits, not even for desperate measures. “...I don’t want to feel that way again.” He managed to say in a calmer tone. “I... I’d rather wait. I’ll be okay.” He finally stated, leaning in his touch, feeling the comfort and warm of the flakes around him as he could tell was purposely done by the man for him to find the peace he now treasured.

The look on the man told him how hesitant he was, and as far as he knew, he had the right to be. Their time together hasn’t been the longest, after all, and despite all the things they’d learnt from each other, it was never enough to see in first sight the long-term repercussions.

“I’m... sorry for that. But I just... I don’t wanna think that something could happen to you if you’re lacking of... ‘food’. I mean, that’s why you in first place started to depend on... those... lost in the ink... didn’t you?” It was easy to tell how uncomfortable he was of thinking over those souls, as those obviously meant the loss of a lot of lives tricked into this studio due the greed of a man that deceived them all, and forcing a demon to tear apart those bodies– lives! –that contained those souls.

_It wasn’t his fault,_ was what Henry constantly tried to remind him, even if he still felt like he wasn’t better than an accomplice of those crimes.

And the demon had to know better, at least to reassure the human, as this fast shouldn’t be worse than years of suffering with pain and rage.

“Henry.” He said steadily, looking at him firmly in the eyes. “I’m going to be okay. After all, I’m a demon! I’ve existed for way longer than the time I’ve been here.” Was his final sentence, accompanying it with a reassuring smile.

The smile was replicated by the man at the same time the flickering glowing bits started to surround them once again warmly, with the comfort of knowing that his little devil darling could be ok even if the assurance were only words with no clear evidence to sustain. But anyways, was better than nothing.

“Well, then. In that case, better for you to eat as much as possible before I go”

A joyful smile spread along the toony face of the demon. And his contagious glee was easily caught by the man as he started to giggle and releasing warm and bright flakes that Bendy playfully started to grab as a kid in the middle of a field full of fireflies.

He would be okay.

The trail of bits around and behind the man was followed by Bendy. But as they got closer to the main entrance, the trail started to turn dim and colder.

He had to part.

Bendy accompanied him to the car, helping him with the baggage and making sure nothing was left unchecked. The bits were around them, but the feeling they irradiated was just tell-tale of the man’s doubts and insecurities.

“Henry, it’s ok. I’ll be right here for when you come back, I promise.” The demon said, trying to reassure him.

A last glance from the man was fixated in his small body, and it was followed by a sigh that seemed to release almost every tension he could be gathering in his being in understanding of the certainty that he would be alright. No need to worry, even if it was inevitable.

The old man crunched in ways to reach the toony demon’s size, and outstretching his arms, invited him to join in a good-bye hug; one full of tender and warm, as the bits brightened more in their sharing moment.

“I’ll try to get back in a week. Please take care while I’m away.”

“You take care, old man. Take it easy as you’re doing your things, that I won’t be there to keep your back safe.”

“At least there’re no ink monsters trying to drag me to a puddle.”

Despite the teasing and attempts in lighten the mood, the tension was still palpable as again they gloomed. Henry took his stare away, thoughtful. But Bendy reached to give him a light, reassuring squeeze in his arms.

It was time to go, and he’d be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~


	5. Soulless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna know a little thing? I... had this chapter done so long ago that I honestly don't remember, maybe from around august or so ^^u
> 
> But oh, well... I really don't know, this block of mine has lasted more than I'm willing to let, so let's try to restart all this! 
> 
> But again, I won't promise any update schedule. They'll come as they come.
> 
> Enjoy! ^-^

Before the man’s arrival to this godforsaken studio, time actually meant nothing, as every day of the passing 20 years of misery were pretty much the same. But now with him there, with ‘times to sleep’ ‘times to eat’, ‘times to work’ and every single thing that he made to divide what made a day in what seemed a scheduled routine, well... with his absence, now the days seemed slow and monotonous.

With the lack of windows in the building, he used to peek out the main door from time to time to see what time of the day it was, only able to discern between ‘day’ and ‘night’, whether if there was light or darkness, but not like he could clearly tell what time really was it; he had never seen how the day changes along the hours.

He also tried to fix some pipes and boards while Henry was away, but without his guidance there wasn’t much he could achieve to complete… or start to do for the instance.

He thought that maybe he could make for the human’s hideout a place a little comfier, but with not clear idea of what were a human’s needs it wasn’t too much what he could get.

The sole other thing he could think of doing that didn’t require much of instructions was cleaning. Dusting off some shelves and desk, getting rid of some ink splotches before it could form a searcher or something worse... and it also meant taking care of the occasional monster that formed around the studio’s halls.

With no more a terrifying shape, his only resource for the last task were the makeshift weapons that he could manage to build, and the loyal ax Henry managed to find and keep for whenever they had to patrol around the studio. Regardless of this being the best option when fighting monsters came, knowing how scarce and ironically fragile these had turned was a stop on choosing it... but the makeshift weapons were also not so effective and they even endangered him when they got broken or splintered. Sure, there was also another way, but he promised... No! he wouldn’t... The ax would make it.

The task for the days were settled and Bendy made of a little ‘weaponry’ for when cleaning came, composed by some rags, a broom, a mop, a soapy water bucket and the ax in case there were ink monsters around.

It might have seemed pretty simple at firsts, but as days passed by, those chores were turning into a harder task than they used to. The ax was starting to make its weight felt; he had to give quite a stretch to reach over the shelves; and... was the mop’s handle so big before? And with all the water soaking it, it was turning also heavy and... tiring...

Even more, demons didn’t really have that kind of organic functions that humans did, but with no other way to reestablish his energy, absentmindedly he was starting to depend more on taking naps every now and then. And he never felt so small as the times when he decided to lie on the floor of wherever place he finished to clean up.

And between cleaning, dusting, mopping, sweeping, getting rid of those monsters, and sleeping, was how he spent the rest of the slow passing days until Henry came back.

And sleeping on the main hall was where the man found him.

The only thing he felt at the beginning was the warmth he assumed started to warp him in the middle of a placid dream; a warmth that he only felt when he was surrounded by the flickering flakes of the tender soul that the man shared for him. But oh, way too far of having realized of who had arrived.

“...Mh?” The demon stirred slightly, feeling a hand shaking him a little, but not really aware of his own surroundings although definitively enjoying it.

“Bendy? Bendy, are you alright?” His voice echoed as distant as closely. Unable to recall from where it came but the security of him being there only helped to soothe further his already blissful mind.

He felt safe with him...

He felt warm with him...

He wanted to him being there with him...

_But he was already there, wasn’t he?_

Realizing of the voice’s source, Bendy finally turned around in a double take, standing up in a leap and seeing the... bigger man? He was already knelt, but why he looked so big? And the flakes around him also seemed larger.

Seeing the excited reaction and the drastic confusion from the little demon made the man to release a sweet laugh that echoed joyful with the bits surrounding, accompanying it with a comforting squeeze from him to the demon’s minute shoulder.

“Bendy, it’s ok. I’m back! I said I’d be back within a week.” He reassured him, with a sweet smile that, regardless the initial impetus, it slowly turned in a frown filled with concern, as the glowing orbs around the demon started to dim too. “...but are you okay?”

He took a moment to calm his exalted mind as he caught the preoccupation the old man was expressing as much in his face as in his flickering soul bits.

“Yeah! I’m... I just was trying to sleep a little. It actually feels really nice.” The demon said, trying to deviate any worries the human might be building.

And actually, wasn’t a lie, since that had been what he was doing besides of his self-imposed task. He even started to like it with all honesty, although he’d never done it before in his entire existence.

Why he felt like he needed it now?

But the man’s wariness didn’t budge, and grabbing him by the armpits– his hands engulfing entirely his tiny body –he lifted him as he stood up. And Bendy didn’t feel so high before, not even when he was that towering deformity of a toon; the gap between his toes and the floor never felt so large.

“You’re smaller...” Was all the man could mutter reflexively. Oh, that’s why he felt everything so big and heavier then...? “Mind telling me what happened while I was gone?”

“Well, I wanted to do some cleaning around so it would look better for your return, but it was getting tiring and, well...” Bendy responded, in attempts to ease the man’s worries as if it wasn’t a big deal. But Henry’s face didn’t show anything but a deeper apprehension.

“Oh, Bendy... That’s really thoughtful from your but weren’t you straining yourself doing so?”

“I... don’t think so?” He muttered. “I mean, I’ve done heavier things around with you, I don’t believe that just cleaning–”

“But it was when you were with me.” Henry cut off the demon, still with worry all written by his face. “I must assume you didn’t eat while me being away, did you?”

“Of course not! I told you I wouldn’t!” He rebated firmly and slightly hurt, as if he weren’t a demon true to his words. But unlike anything he expected, the man only gave out a deep sigh as his ashamed stare deviated to the floor, leaving the demon certainly confused.

“That’s... what I thought. Should I believe this is due the lack of food?” He landed his wrinkled eyes over the demon, not giving in his concerned features. But the demon, in his confusion yet comprehensive analysis, holding a wide-open stare, only shrugged, not wanting to entirely recognize this as a matter of fact. And that made of the orbs a dimming, fading glow, leaving a remorseful feeling right before disappearing once again. “Then why would you be sleeping in the middle of the floor?”

He paused thoughtfully, really trying to think in the most honest and reliable answer he could muster.

“...It feels good?”

Although wasn’t the reaction he really expected– only waiting for the man’s worries to ease –he couldn’t help the joyful feeling blooming inside him when he saw the man release a humorous and slightly exasperated sigh as a way to hold a little chuckle behind; feelings easily acknowledged by the demon thanks to the newly shining flakes that started to surround them.

Indeed, they looked bigger than any bit he had seen before...

“Wouldn’t it be as a way to restore energy, maybe?” He retorted to the demon with a half-lidded look.

“...that’s what sleeping is for?” And with that, the man burst in soft cackles, denoting the demon’s charming naivety. And that was definitively _not_ a reaction he was expecting.

“Oh... okay... I get it...” Henry said as he tried to calm down a little, not diming nor reducing a tad the amount and glow from his tasteful soul for Bendy’s awe. “We better... we better go and get a good night of sleep.” He commanded as he shifted Bendy’s hold to cradling him by his hip as he started to walk towards his hideout. “I guess we both need it. The trip was longer than I’d have wanted and _you_ need to learn _what_ and _where_ is a proper place to sleep. We can take my stuffs off the truck tomorrow.”

‘Good night of sleep’, meaning it was late.

Sure, as a demon, never needed or acknowledged about how organics systems really works. For him it was just seeing the human do things as ‘sleep’ mostly relating it to simple ‘acts’ that he had to do at certain times. But the lack of his own source of energy made him realize of the value of this not only as the way the human divided daytime, but also as a form to conserve and replenish the energy he didn’t get from only eating.

If Henry had to be out again in their future, then he’d have to learn to not strain himself and keep his energy to times when he’d really need it. But for now, he was going to just relish the idea of sleeping at nighttime in a proper place to do so.

Not like it worthed to think about it after all, but after the man’s arrival and the way he could deduce the reasons of his current state, lying there in the cot Henry fixed for him to properly sleep, surrounded by the darkness of the room and the deep murmurs the man spouted in the middle of his slow breath, Bendy couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he didn’t submit into the embrace of sleeping that very first time?

Demon’s pride was not something he relied the most lately, not after all he had been through thanks to a man and an oh, so human concept as it was ‘helping’; helping him reach his current shape, helping him into being stable, to accomplish the only deal he was summoned for; and all in exchange of nothing he could really offer as any other bargain demons were used to. In fact, after this short amount of time, he... didn’t even feel like he needed to keep thinking as a demon, but more like the character he was incarnating. Yes, he still needed of the soul bits to sustain him as any demon, but he didn’t need to force the request as he used to do, not anymore. He didn’t need to torture, to live from the suffering and despair, to cause torment, twisting his part of the deal as a way to confine the dealer in a corner from where he had no options but to surrender his own existence into the demon’s demands. He did it once, and it backfired him heavier than he could ever have imagined, and he wouldn’t have realized of it if it weren’t for the man that now was sleeping soundly in the other side of the dark room.

That man was so selfless and devoted, yet adamant and stubborn. He said he was going to help the demon reach the shape of the ‘perfect Bendy’, and he did! He already did it. He accomplished his promise... According to any demon’s understanding that would mean the end of the deal and no more attachments for the human to stay any longer with the demon. But no. he stayed. He _returned_. He cared for the demon he so committedly called Bendy. And the least thing he could do in retribution was to live by his name. _His_ name. He didn’t need to think as any other demon anymore, because he was ‘The dancing demon’; a silly title for a silly cartoon character, but he was that cartoon character. He was Bendy, and for the first time in his entire existence, be it in this last summoning or his time previous to it, he never felt a name so of his own.

He was Bendy, and forever would be.

Little did the demon know that this kind of random, unguided and reflexive line of thoughts were a common treat when his body was in expectance of doing absolutely nothing and his mind was so into the deepest parts of its own, finding those ideas that were too big to unravel in the middle of any other ‘daily-active’ task; the calmness of the time previous to sleep was the perfect set to dig them out, allowing him to stand in a new perspective of whichever were the ideas brimming in front of his slowly fading consciousness. And that’s how he succumbed once again in the warm embrace of the numbing state that was sleeping.

~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
